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Monday, August 20, 2012

Denmark diary - day 6

We thought we
might manage a last morning walk around Copenhagen, but of course we moved too
slowly. We did have breakfast in the hotel for the one and only time – even though
it’s free, we'd never made it down there – and it was a good array of stuff too. Then we
left for the airport and easily caught our flight to the Faroe Islands at 12.30. It’s
fun occasionally to head to a virtually random destination, and that’s what this
is – we decided our trip should include somewhere that would provide a contrast
with Copenhagen, but since that basically could mean anywhere else in Denmark, it’s
largely chance that brought us to this one. It’s largely because of the seeming
oddness of the place – a cluster of islands, occupied by fewer than 50,000
people, closer to the Shetlands than to the Danish mainland…it seemed like
somewhere that few non-Danes would ever visit. Ironically though, when I emailed a
friend in Britain that we were going to the Faroes, he replied back that he’d also been
there, on a cruise, and just last year. This instantly made it seem a little
bit less adventurous. And then as soon as we got here we saw Rick Whiler
walking down the street…no, I’m joking on that (at least for today)…

The flight was
just two and a quarter hours (we gained an hour on the time zone though), and
with surprisingly good food (you’d be happy to be served those meatballs
anywhere), although we had to sit separately, because the plane was full of mostly
elderly people, apparently belonging to a tour group. As soon as we got off the
flight we knew we were in a different climate – several degrees colder, and
with a pervasive mist. We took the bus into the largest town, Torshavn, about
50km away – a journey painted almost completely in green and observed mainly by
sheep, taking us through one very long tunnel and past various small
communities of no particular beauty. The bus dumped us at a terminal, where a
map of the city indicated, a bit troublingly, that our hotel was far away from
everything else – fortunately, there was a taxi station close by to get us there. Our initial
impression of the hotel was a bit uncertain though – it seemed more than nice (very long
and flat), with possibly the best amenities on the island (which is likely why
we’d booked it, not that we really remember), but far away from everything else and shrouded in fog, we couldn’t
help wondering if we’d made the wisest choice…Ally mentioned The Shining, which is the worst movie
for a hotel ever to allow to enter the mind of a guest (later she said the reference
wasn’t really justified, but I don’t know – long hallways, a sense of pervasive
isolation, a crazy husband, it’s not so unfair...)

Anyway, we walked
into town (supposedly the hotel provides grand sweeping views of the whole
landscape, but in this fog we’d have settled for a grand view of our feet), which takes
about twenty minutes, initially down a little footpath and then through a
series of residential streets. When we got there, it added a bit to our concern
– since there didn’t seem to be much of a there, just a lot of boats and a few
bewildered people wandering round, presumably in much the same state as
ourselves. But then we went round a corner and found some more activity, albeit
still not much. The town is quite handsome in spurts, with some buildings
bearing moss-coloured roofs and others painted in striking colours, but it’s very
modest.

Anyway, we
explored the downtown to some extent, including a little lighthouse on the edge
of it, and then randomly set off walking for a while. Again, we saw more sheep
than people, although they are quite handsome sheep, often with impressive horns,
and it seems that each sheep is carefully allocated a generous amount of space, and maybe its own little wooden structure.
Actually, in the prevalence of sheep, as well as in the appearance of the
landscape and the particular kind of freshness of the air (sheep tinged), it
reminded me of nowhere as much as the part of rural Wales where I grew up,
although little as was going on in Torshavn today, it was still more than was
generally going on in Wales. It was all quite mysterious though – we’d come in
on a full flight, and not the only one that day, so presumably there must be
plenty of visitors around (not to mention 48,000 residents), but I guess they
were all hanging upside down in their closets. And the fog never lifted – as I
write this, I have no idea what might lie outside the hotel window.

The sheer
wackiness of it all became quite entertaining to us, so we were in a good mood
as we walked back. The walk got pretty tough though as we entered the final
stretch, so I don’t think we’ll be doing that too much at night after a big
meal and some wine. It being Sunday, the hotel restaurant was closed today, but
it has a bar/cafe open until midnight so we decided to eat there. Initially
it was a bit stark, just the two of us and one other guest in a big space, but
then as time went on it also became very entertaining. Our waitress, who eventually
admitted it was her first night, was beautiful and stylish but also inept and
careless, and after a while spent all her time staring out of the window and
waiting for her boyfriend to come and get her, regardless of whether we might have
had any further requests. At around 10 pm, the hotel
experienced a strange peak of arrivals, which they were ill-equipped to process
quickly – our guess is that there’s some corporate meeting tomorrow (they must love the manager who came up with that idea). And
outside, it just got darker and foggier. When we were done (and had duly signed
for our bill, not that they would have noticed if we hadn't) we went outside and walked a short way, and it didn’t take much
for the hotel to be reduced to an abstract patch of light, which left us feeling as
close to nowhere as we would ever likely be – out in the Atlantic on a barely material dot of land, with our
only coordinates engulfed by the night. But of course, as long we we have wireless Internet, then we must be somewhere..